


The Transfer

by TheGeniusCallsYou



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: A Monthly Rumbelling (Once Upon a Time), A Monthly Rumbelling March 2020 (Oce Upon a Time), AU, Angst, Belle is a police officer and can see through Weaver's bullshit, Curse AU, Cursed Hyperion Heights (Once Upon a Time), Evil Queen | Regina Mills as Roni, F/M, Happy Ending, He unfortunetly can't, Random Prompts, Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold as Detective Weaver, Woven Beauty, belle lives, let her go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-23 02:20:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23004181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGeniusCallsYou/pseuds/TheGeniusCallsYou
Summary: He could always claim that the tightness and burn in his chest were all due to the alcohol, but then he would be lying.The reason was the same as the cause of why he was getting pissed in the first place.Today, Belle French was moving away to a different city. Freshly promoted, on his recommendation, and transferred. Far away from Hyperion Heights. Far away from him.Based on @a-monthly-rumbelling March's Random Prompt Let Her Go (song)
Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold
Comments: 10
Kudos: 44





	The Transfer

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy!

When yet another elbow got him in the ribs, Weaver began to doubt whenever coming here had been such a good idea. The alternative of buying a bottle of alcohol and locking himself in his flat was becoming more and more tempting. The thing was, he didn't feel like being alone. That was why he was making his way between the mass of people that chose to inhabit Roni's at the same time as he did. 

He clenched both his fists and teeth after he pushed away yet another one of the drunkards standing in his way. If he didn't soon make it to the counter, he would sooner or later punch somebody. Well, he still may do this after a couple of drinks, but then it would be justified. He had a set goal for the day after all - get pissed so he wouldn't have to remember. 

He had finally made it without damaging anybody and sat down on the newly vacated stool. The previous occupant had taken one look at Weaver's face and scurried off at once. Good for him.

"Someone's in a cheery mood." 

"I'm not paying for a pep talk, Roni."

"Be that as it may, you're not paying for anything yet."

He didn't look at her as he fished out his wallet and threw a fifty dollar note in her direction.

"Just give me the damn bottle and keep the change."

She didn't comment on his behaviour, and he was thankful for that. He had never been overly talkative nor pleasant, but with Roni, it was different. This time, he couldn't bring himself to care how harsh he made himself sound. 

Before he could have begun to feel guilty, there was a click of ice cubes, and a glass landed next to his hand. Roni purred his first measure with a raised eyebrow, and he knocked it down in one go. He put the glass down and waited for the refill. The burn in his throat brought tears to his eyes, but he welcomed it. 

Roni refilled the glass, looking closely at his pained expression.

"Hard day?"

He took back the glass and raised it to his lips, shooting her a nasty glare over the rim.

"Roni," he all but growled with a warning. 

She sighed and shook her head, leaving the bottle next to him and moving to the other end of the counter.

This time, when he knocked the second glass back, his face twisted in a grimace. 

He could always claim that the tightness and burn in his chest were all due to the alcohol, but then he would be lying. No, that wasn't it. No matter how many times he was telling himself otherwise, it would still be a lie. The reason was the same as the cause of why he was getting pissed in the first place.

Today, Belle French was moving away to a different city. Freshly promoted, on his recommendation, and transferred. Better salary, safer, more stable place to raise her kid, it was all what she truly deserved. Far away from Hyperion Heights. Far away from him.

He had been with her when she had heard the news. Her eyes had shone with happiness as she had hugged him after leaving the commissioner's office. He couldn't have done anything but smiling along with her. It had been what she had deserved. He had been hugging her back and cracking jokes, but inside he had felt empty. 

If her happiness meant letting her go, so be it. 

Today he should be at the station saying his Goodbyes to her at the small party the rest had hastily thrown, but he could have brought himself to do it. He had hugged her yesterday, trying to memorise every detail of her in those short seconds and bid his farewell. That had been when he decided to take a day off and miss the party altogether. If he had gone there, he would probably end up asking her to stay. 

He couldn't do it to her. He cared too much about her to ask her to stay.

Tomorrow, there would be an empty desk in the place where she had sat, and he already missed her. Before her, he had all but felt miserable and lonely. Now, he would be back to that feeling. It was for the better, he thought, purring himself another glass, he had a knack for making people around him worse than they were. He would have compromised her. Now he didn't have to worry about that. It didn't change the fact that even thinking about her hurt so damn much. 

He loved her. That thought alone could rip his heart in two.

The half-empty glass stopped just before his mouth. With his vision suspiciously blurry, he realised what he had just thought. He swallowed hard and soon enough, a lonely tear escaped from right eye. He felt trapped, with a sudden feeling of not enough air in the room. He needed to get out of here.

The glass slipped away from his hand and slammed against the countertop. 

"Weaver? You ok?" 

He blinked and found Roni looking at him with concern written on her whole face. There were only a handful of people left in the bar. 

How long had he been here? 

He could feel the alcohol wetting his jeans as it dripped from the place he splashed it over. The glass laid on its side, broken almost in half.

He cleared his throat and sighed once. Yes, he definitely needed to go. He slid from the stool and stood a little unsteady on his two feet. 

"Sorry for the mess," he said, leaving a ten-dollar bill next to the alcohol splotch a moved towards the exit.

"Wanna get you a taxi?" 

Without turning, he waved at her not to bother and pushed at the door, welcoming the whisps of cold air on his face. 

He didn't really think where he was going, but his unsteady legs took him in the direction of his small flat nevertheless. 

_When had it happened?_

He couldn't pinpoint the exact moment. Or could he? 

There was her smile that made every day brighter, even his. There was her stubbornness when going toe to toe with him over some cases, her bravery and kind heart. She had never been afraid of his snark as if she could tell it was all bark, no teeth. She had been calling him on his bullshit almost from day one. Others had been running as far away from him as possible while she had been coming right at him. He had wanted to strangle her sometimes, but he had respected her. If only for her courage to stand up to him. That was it. Respect and fondness. When had it changed into something else?

He stumbled into the door to his building and leaned heavily on them. God, he was a mess. It took him three tries and one keys' dropping to open the bloody door and enter, or more accurately fall through them. At least any of his neighbours didn't see him. Elderly Mrs Simons would be very disappointed in him. Not that he cared about that in this moment or any other. 

He made his way slowly up the stairs leading to his flat. It was dark, the only lightbulb that worked, and gave some light was two storeys above him. His head felt a lot less cloudy than before, but it still took him a moment to notice that somebody was standing next to his door. 

"I missed you at the party, you know. But from the look of it, you found one on your own." 

He stood rotten to the spot. All that he was able to do was stand and stare at her with wide eyes. She couldn't have been here. She should have been on her way in a packed car with her son sitting next to her, not next to his door. She was smiling, that much he could tell even in the shitty light, but soon she frowned in concern.

"Weaver? Are you all right?" She took a step towards him, then another.

"B-Belle?" His voice was so small as if he was afraid she would disappear.

She stood just before him now, almost at his eye-level thanks to her heels. He could smell her. Visual hallucinations shouldn't have a smell, should they?

"Yeah, that's me. How much did you drink?"

"What the fuck are doing here?" 

It came out harsh and breathless, but she brushed it off and the corners of her mouth lifted in a small smile.

"I've already told you. I missed you at the party."

"Shouldn't you be hitting the road by now?"

 _She shouldn't have been here!_

"I needed to talk to you. Look, it will only take a moment, and I'll be off your hair. Can I come in?"

_No!_

"Yes, of course."

He moved around her feeling lightheaded and this time not because of the alcohol. His hands were shaking, and he couldn't put the key into the keyhole. He cursed silently and tried again, but it only made the shaking worse. Suddenly, her hands were on his. Without a word, she helped him open the door and close them when they stepped inside his flat. 

He stepped away from her, trying to look anywhere, but at her face.

"Do you, ah, want anything to drink?"

"A tea would be nice, thank you."

"Right."

He put the kettle on and focused on finding and pulling the mugs out from the cupboard. He did it slowly, methodically, trying to organise his thoughts into something resembling order. His mind had different ideas. 

Belle was in his flat. She wasn't in her car, driving away, but sitting on his couch. It took him a minute to realise she was also currently speaking to him. He wanted to smack himself over the head.

"I'm sorry, what?" 

"I asked, why didn't you tell me that you recommended me for the promotion."

His hands stilled with teabags over the mugs.

"Who told you that?" He asked after what felt like hours of silence.

"Am I right to take this deflection as you pleading guilty?"

"Belle -"

"You did, didn't you? Even if it meant transferring me to a different city?"

"You didn't mind that after hearing the news. You were quite happy if I recall correctly." He purred the water to the mugs and watched as it slowly changed colour.

"Of course I was happy! I wanted that promotion for as long as I can remember!"

He turned around now, more confused than before. He was missing something.

"Belle, I'm still a little drunk, and maybe that's because of that, but I don't follow. If you were happy, then what's all of this?" He made a circle in the air with his hand gesturing at her. She exhaled slowly and looked down.

"I wanted this promotion, but I didn't want to leave." 

He was speechless. How the hell should he answer that? She was looking at him biting her lower lip. He suddenly felt too hot and had to turn his back to her.

"Did you know they would transfer me?"

He exhaled slowly and threw away the teabags from the mugs, not sparing them a second glance.

"Yes."

"Did you want me to leave?"

_No._

"Yes."

"That's a lie if I even heard one and you know it."

"Then why do you ask?"

"Because I try to understand."

He closed his eyes for a second then took one mug in his hand and turned around with eyes fixed on the hot, brown liquid. He left the other mug on the counter. He wouldn't be able to drink the tea even if he wanted to.

"I recommended you because that's what you deserved," he said without looking up.

"Deserved the promotion or to be away from here and you?"

"Both," he whispered, his throat suddenly feeling tight. From the corner of his eye, he could see her standing up and approaching him. Slowly, she put her hands over his. The mug was burning him but not as much as her touch.

"I will ask you one question, and I want you to be honest with me, can you do that?" 

She whispered gently, while her thumbs made small circles on his skin. The only thing he was able to do was to nod. 

"If you didn't want me to leave, then why agree to it?"

_Because I wanted you to be happy. Because I love you even if I didn't realise it before._

His ears were ringing, then there was a loud thump on the floor, and Belle was jumping away from him. He blinked hard not realising what had happened. His hands were empty. Belle was kneeling on his carpet while waving her hands as if to cool them.

The mug was lying on the floor. 

"Shit!" Some of the hot tea splatted on Belle's legs and hands before she had managed to jump away. "I'm so sorry, -"

"It's OK, It's not-"

"-I'm still drunk-"

"-your fault."

"- and you got hurt -"

"It's fine, I'm fine -"

"-It's my fault."

"Weaver, stop."

"I'm such a mess."

"Rob!"

She caught his hands in hers and pulled at them to get his attention. He finally met her eyes. His eyes were wide open as his heart was beating so fast he was afraid it would stop. She smiled gently and tightened her grip on him.

"It's just tea, I'm fine. No harms done. Look, even the mug is all right." She took it with one hand and held it in front of his eyes.

"It's chipped," he managed to rasp while tracing the jagged rim. Belle grabbed his hand to stop his movement and smiled.

"Well, you can hardly see it."

He swallowed hard, freeing his hand and setting the mug next to them.

"I've resigned the commission." 

If he were still holding the mug, he would have dropped it again. He whipped his head back to her so fast it hurt.

"What?!"

She just nodded.

"I went to the commissioner this morning and asked him to put it on hold."

"B-but why?"

She sighed and suddenly looked away from him, looking shy. 

"It's not what I planned. My whole flat was packed, and I went to get Gid from school when someone bumped into me and spilt my coffee on to the pavement. That's when I remembered something." She looked back to him, and he couldn't look away. " Do you remember that day when I walked into you and had your coffee all over your clothes? I wanted to fix that mess, and you were cursing like a sailor. Do you remember?"

"Yes," he whispered. The scene was still vivid in his mind. Where was she going with this?

"I had reached down, and our hands had joined over that cheep paper cup, not so different than like they did today. That day... Well, I had felt something, something I pushed away from my mind. Do you know what I'm talking about?"

She looked so vulnerable with her big blue eyes that could look deep into his soul. He wanted to gather her in his arms and not let go. He swallowed hard. 

Of course, he knew. 

And for the first time, he decided to make a bold move. 

_Do the brave thing, and the bravery will follow._

He could hear that saying spoken in her voice inside his head. Instead of answering, he leaned forward to stop only when his lips were a breath away from hers.

"You can still change your mind," he whispered against her lips, closing his eyes. 

"What if I don't want to?"

"I let you go."

"And I came back. I will always come back."

She closed the little distance between them and then he could feel her lips against his. She kissed him as softly as a feather. It didn't take him long to kiss back just as gently, not wanting to startle her.

And just like that, that soft, warm feeling he could feel every time he looked at her had expanded and engulfed him. It travelled through his veins to the smallest parts of his body, making him feel as he had never felt before. He felt like flying.

One kiss - It was all it took to change everything.


End file.
